


Star of the Show

by Avidreader6



Series: Musician Clint [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Country Music, Established Relationship, M/M, Manager Phil, Married Life, Song writing, musician Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avidreader6/pseuds/Avidreader6
Summary: Clint has been out of the music scene for a while now. He hasn't minded though because he's got his husband, Phil by his side and they're happy. That is until Clint finds a song Phil is working on and feels that itch to start creating music again.





	Star of the Show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twangcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twangcat/gifts).



> I wrote this for twangcat's birthday (Happy Birthday!) 
> 
> It's also posted on my tumblr, avidreader6.tumblr.com 
> 
> The title of this is from the song of the same name, sung by Thomas Rhett.

_“Everywhere we go, you’re the star of the show. Everybody’s wonderin’ and wantin’ to know...”_

“I still think there’s something missing in that first line. What do you think?”

“Jesus!” Clint tried to catch himself before he fell, but ended up flat on his back on the deck, anyway. Looking up at the sky, guitar resting on his chest, he could see Phil laughing as he took a seat. “How do you do that, Phil?” 

Sinking onto the chaise lounge Clint had fallen out of, Phil shrugged. “I’m light on my feet? I don’t stomp around in my boots making more noise than I need to?”

Clint got up and straddled the end of the chair. “I don’t stomp.”

A knowing smirk turned up the corners of Phil’s mouth and his eyes twinkled as he looked at Clint. He picked up the paper scribbled with lyrics and his notes. “Sure, babe. Now tell me, what did you think of the song?” 

Strumming a few notes on his guitar, Clint smiled. “I like it. Who’s it for?”

“Not sure yet. I think that new kid, Thomas Rhett, could do well with it. He just got married and in every picture, he’s got stars in his eyes.”

Clint looked thoughtful and was quiet for a moment before nodding. “He’d be good for it.” 

“Clint?” Phil knew just about every expression his husband had, and he knew almost a year away from the music scene was starting to weigh on him. 

Shaking his head, Clint stared at the blue and white striped cushion underneath them before looking back up at Phil. When he did the smile was back. Clint nudged Phil’s foot with his. “I’m fine. Can I ask you something, though?.”

Phil hooked Clint’s ankle with his foot, tugging it closer. “Of course.” 

Setting his guitar to the side, Clint crawled forward until he could flop down in Phil’s lap, burrowing against Phil’s shoulder. He hummed happily when Phil’s arm automatically came around him, fingers moving in circles over his back. 

“Are you happy?” Clint’s voice is low and muffled and he keeps his face hidden.

The fingers on Clint’s back stopped moving and Phil shifted them until he was lying on his side facing Clint. “Clint? Why do you ask? I’m very happy.” Clint could feel his husband studying his face again before quietly adding: “I’ve been worried about you being happy, actually.” 

Tentatively reaching out, Clint stroked Phil’s cheek with his thumb. Phil pushed into the light touch and turned his head to kiss the center of Clint’s palm. Clint watched his husband and was filled with warmth seeing him so soft. 

“I am happy, Phil. So happy. Being married to you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I do miss being on stage and being out on the road, but I wouldn’t trade what we have for that.”

Clint started to pull his hand back, but Phil caught his arm and pressed his lips to Clint’s wrist, right over his pulse, and kissed up his forearm until he reached the rolled up sleeve of Clint’s plaid shirt. 

“It’s the same for me, Clint. I’m so happy being your husband and I love you so much. We get to write together and live together, and sure, there was some negativity, but overall we’ve gotten so much support from our friends and your fans, that I’ve never felt the need to worry that you resented coming out.” 

Clint scoffed. “You do remember what led to us coming out, right? The song, I wrote. For us. Didn’t change the pronouns. Recorded it. Released it. You and Pepper did PR after. Anything ringing a bell?”

Phil reached down and pinched Clint’s side. “I think I need some reminding. Care to do that upstairs, Mr. Coulson?”

Scrambling out of the lounge, Clint grabbed his guitar and held out a hand to Phil. “Love to, Mr. Barton.” 

****2 Hours and Mutual Orgasms Later****

Phil had been drifting on the edge of awake for awhile. When Clint had gotten out of bed for his guitar, Phil had peeked through his lashes and watched his husband move around their bedroom, enjoying the broad expanse of his back and the taut firm muscle of his backside. Sex in the middle of the afternoon was one of Phil’s favorite perks of them both being semi-retired. Phil had expected Clint to leave the room once he had his guitar, but instead, his husband crawled back into bed and leaned back against the headboard. 

For a few minutes, Clint just strummed random notes, fingers picking out a few quick melodies trying to find something he wanted to play. Phil shifted a little, wanting to be closer to the music and to Clint. Clint started to play their song, humming along, eyes darting over to study Phil. Phil could feel Clint’s eyes moving over his own exposed back and back up to his face, a soft smile on his face. 

Finishing the song, Clint shifted a bit against the headboard. “Love you so much, Phil.” 

Eyes still closed, Phil smiled. He was about to reach out for Clint, but Clint started to sing. 

_“Cause everywhere we go, Phil, you’re the star of the show._  
_And everybody’s wonderin’ and wantin’ to know_  
_What’s your name, who’s that guy_  
_With the prettiest smile in the world?_  
_Oh, what gets me the most is you don’t even know_  
_That you are, you are, you are the star of the show…”_

“That’s not how it goes.”

Phil propped himself up on an elbow and looked up at his husband, sheet pooling at his waist, cocky grin lighting up his whole face. “In my version it is.”

“Your version?” Sitting up, Phil leaned into his husband. When the idea for the song had come to him, he’d been thinking about how it was being out with Clint. 

“Wanna hear it? I’ve only changed the bridge near the end so far. The actual verses themselves didn’t need to be changed.”

Phil laughed. “Sing it for me.” 

Before he started, Clint turned his head and caught Phil’s lips with his. Phil sank into the kiss, teasing Clint’s lips with his before pulling back and pointing to the guitar. “Play.” 

Clint rolled his eyes and then started to play, eyes never leaving Phil’s.

_“Even in one of my tees and a pair of jeans_  
_You’re lookin’ like the cover of a magazine_  
_Baby, you’re the only one who doesn’t see…”_

Once he finished, Clint set the guitar aside and looked at Phil. “What do you think?”

Phil was silent for a moment. “I think…” 

Clint tried to wait for Phil’s answer, but his impatience got the best of him. “Phil!”

Chuckling, Phil kissed Clint’s shoulder. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. I think if Thomas Rhett wants the song we should let him record it, but ask that you be allowed to sing it as well.”

“Phil?”

Settling closer, Phil took a deep breath. “I think you should record again, Clint. We don’t have to release it, but it’s been a year and most of the hate mail has stopped and right now, the mail we’re getting is positive. Lots of fans want you to come back, Clint.” 

Clint took Phil’s hand in his and looked at their intertwined fingers. “Are you sure, babe?” 

Phil smiled. “I’m sure. We’ll start slow. Just record some songs. See how you feel. Talk to some producers and our friends. Brad’s called a couple times wanting to sing with you ever since we wrote that song with him.”

“I’d like that. Even if we just record some stuff and release it to the fans. I think it would be nice to get back in the studio.” 

“Great! I’ll call Jasper and Maria tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” 

Phil let go of Clint’s hand to cup his cheek and kiss him. “Yes. Tomorrow. I’ve got plans for tonight.”


End file.
